Once Upon a Time
by dancingthrwlife9
Summary: A look at relationships in the Upper East Side through the lens of several classic fairy tales. Will include almost all pairings.


Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any of its characters.

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As a child, whenever Blair would say she wished for something, Mrs. Waldorf, queen of the Waldorf clan, would respond sharply, "Waldorfs don't make wishes. We make things happen for ourselves." Still, one of Blair's favorite activities as a child was to throw a coin into the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park and make a wish. Derota would always take her after they fed the ducks, and it became a habit Blair practiced even through adolescence. The frequency of her visits declined as she grew older, of course, but still she went whenever she was frustrated or sad. The simple tradition made the power of wishes seem to her as tangible as the coins shimmering beneath the rippling waters of the fountain. Blair was not superstitious. She opened umbrellas inside (she couldn't get her hair wet, now could she?) and she only avoided black cats because she disliked their habit of depositing fur on everything they touched. Wishes, however, were the only superstition in which Blair indulged. For her, they were a remnant of childhood magic that never seemed to lose their glistening potency, and, very soon, she was about to see proof of their power.

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It really was much too cold to be sitting in Central Park without a coat, but fourteen-year-old Blair couldn't bear to return home quite yet. She figured her mother was still winding down from their latest "discussion" over her eating and exercise habits. So what if she had gained a few pounds since the start of school? Homework and extracurriculars and social events had kept her so occupied that she had let a few too many crab cakes and chocolate-covered strawberries pass across her lips. Though Blair tried to tell her mother that she wasn't the only freshman whose waist had gotten a few centimeters thicker, it did no good. _I just want my Blair to be the fairest of them all_, the queen declared. So Blair stormed out of the apartment in defiance, but her mother called after her, "The walking will help get rid of that extra weight!"

Even when rebelling, Blair couldn't circumvent her mother, so she did the best she could to spite Eleanor and spent her time sitting by the Bethesda fountain. Right after arriving, she ransacked her pockets for a coin. She held up the nickel she had found, closed her eyes, and waited for the right wish to come to her. Once she had decided, she tossed the coin in and opened her eyes only after hearing the familiar plunk of the coin as it descended into the fountain's waters.

_I wish that someone will come for me soon, someone who will love me for who I am, and not the person that they think I should be. _

As dusk descended on the park, Blair slowly made her way back to the penthouse. Once she was in the elevator, she took her shoes off in hopes that she could sneak quietly upstairs without alerting her mother of her arrival. Thankfully, the familiar ding of the elevator was the only sound that greeted her as she arrived in the foyer of her home. Tiptoeing towards the stairs, she had made it almost to the sixth one before she heard the sound she had been trying to avoid.

"Blair?" Her mother's voice rang throughout the entire apartment.

"Yes, Mother?"

"You have a visitor in the parlor."

Confused, for Serena hadn't said she'd be stopping by, Blair padded down the stairs once more, heels still dangling in her left hand. When she entered the parlor, she was surprised to see a familiar yet still surprising figure standing by the fireplace.

"Nate. Hi." Blair couldn't imagine what Nate Archibald would be doing here on a Thursday night.

"Hey," he said, his mouth melting into that famous Archibald smile.

Suddenly feeling foolish for standing there in just her stocking feet, she shifted slightly so that her bottom-half was hidden by one of her family's many chairs.

"It's nice to see you. Just come by to chat?"

"Ah, no actually," he said while briefly rubbing the back of his neck. Blair realized he was nervous; she had known him for enough years to tell. For some reason, she felt her chest tighten up. Suddenly she was nervous too. He continued, unsure, "Actually, I came by to, uh, ask you if you, uh, wanted to go out for dinner tonight."

Blair's hopes sank just a bit. "Oh, do you have a function tomorrow night?" Friday nights had always been their dinner night with Chuck and Serena. _He must just be wanting to reschedule for tomorrow_, she thought.

"No, um, I was thinking it could just be the two of us tonight. Like a date." By the time Nate had spoken the last three words, his smile had shrunk to a third of its usual size and warmth, but it returned to its full strength when he saw Blair's eyes light up with happiness.

"Nathaniel Archibald, I'd love to go on a date with you." She had imagined saying those words so many times in the past few months she couldn't believe they had really passed over her lips. "Oh, but…"

"Your mother already gave the go ahead. I'll be back to pick you up in half an hour?"

"I'll be waiting right here," Blair said, overjoyed.

Nate winked as he headed towards the exit. No sooner had the elevator doors shut behind him than Blair darted up the stairs and screamed, "Derota! Emergency! We only have half an hour!"

Between brushing her hair and applying mascara and texting Serena, Blair managed to find a fraction of a minute to whisper to herself: _Wishes do come true._

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Indeed, Blair's wish for someone to love her for who she was had come true. Ever since Nate had formally announced his love for her at his New Years Eve party, she particularly relished the feel of the phrase on her lips as well as the softness of Nate's voice when it was his turn to pronounce the words. They made sure to exchange their love daily and in person. One Tuesday that winter, however, made Blair refuse to see Nate. She had regrettably fallen ill with the most horrendous cold. Due to blotchy eyes and a runny nose, she felt it was unacceptable for Nate to see her, and so she forbade him from visiting after school. Yet, because he couldn't be anything less than charming, Nate appeared in her bedroom doorway exactly thirty minutes after the final bell at St. Jude's had rung. His cheeks were red from the cold, but his smile warmed his face when he saw Blair frantically pull the covers over her head in an attempt to hide from him.

"Nate, you know I love you, but please, please, please go away," she begged in a muffled voice.

"No." Nate crossed over to her bed and tugged down her navy blue comforter. Blair scowled at his persistence. Nate chuckled at her contrariness.

"Blair, you know I love you, too. No matter how you look. Even when you're sick."

"Even when I'm—" Blair sneezed. "Sick?"

"Even when you're sick. And when you're grumpy, too."

"Hmph."

"And also when you're sleepy and have bed head."

"Nice, Archibald. Way to boost my self-esteem."

"I love you especially when you're self-conscious, because you should know you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Blair bit her lip happily as she smiled.

"And I love you when you're happy.

"Even when I laugh too loudly because I've had too much champagne?"

"Even then, too." He paused. "But I also love you when you're taking charge, because you get this very serious, but still warm, look on your face that is so convincing, so empowering, that everyone in the room simply falls to their knees trying to please you."

"You make me sound like some evil queen."

"Not evil, never evil. Commanding, yes, but that's what a queen must be, and that's exactly what you are: a queen."

"I love, love, love you, Nate Archibald."

"I know." They smiled, they kissed, and then they sat in silence, just enjoying the other's company.

_Wishes do come true._

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Nate had come to love Blair for who she was, yes, but all the while her mother still wished for her to be someone she was not. Or rather, to be a size she was not. One day Blair came home to find her closet emptied of all clothes above a size four. Although her mother claimed she was simply getting rid of old clothes, Blair knew her mother assumed that if she only had small clothes to wear, she'd have to mold her body to fit the clothes. Another day, her mother threw a dinner party to which she just happened to invite some of the best personal trainers and nutritional coaches in Manhattan. Blair smiled and nodded and listened to their advice and slight hints at their offers of service; she could handle that. What she couldn't handle, however, were the constant barbed words of Her Majesty that stuck in Blair's mind like burs in wool. _You look bloated, is it that time of the month? No, dear, you can't possibly have room for seconds after eating all that. Fix your shirt, you can see your stomach hanging over your waistline! _She was sure her mother loved her, but each criticism felt like a slice from a knife, and those slices were making an outline around Blair's heart. So far, she had held strong against the attacks, and kept her heart intact. Yet she knew it wouldn't be long before she was chased into the dark depths of that forest called self-loathing.

Blair finally broke one Sunday in March during her freshman year. As per the tradition, they were attending brunch. Blair had picked up an apple tart but before she even let it get near her mouth, Mrs. Waldorf had made one of her usual cutting comments. Blair didn't even remember what words had been uttered; all she remembered was waiting until the queen floated off before shoving the thing her mouth, grabbing three croissants off the nearest table, and heading towards the bathroom. When she emerged soon after, she gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek and put on a brave smile. Finally, she was in control.

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The bathroom became Blair's sanctuary. It served as a stronghold against the queen, for her criticisms soon turned into praise and nagging into complimenting. Whatever magic had started with that apple tart had given Blair control back over her life, or so she thought. It was actually quite the opposite; her eating habits had gained control over her.

For nearly six months she remained in the stupor of her ignorance. It wasn't until one afternoon with Nate that she realized the spiral she was stuck inside. Blair and her prince had been enjoying a perfect lunch date at his house when she excused herself as usual and made her way to her sanctuary. By accident, Nate happened to pass by the bathroom in search of a sweatshirt and heard her. When she emerged, he was still standing there.

"Hi," she said.

"Are you okay?" Nate asked, staring directly into her eyes. She always teased him that he was so easy to read, but he also knew she couldn't lie, not to him.

"Yeah, I think I just had some bad watermelon at breakfast this morning, but thank you for being so concerned. You're the best boyfriend ever," she replied with a classic Blair smile. It was true that she couldn't lie to him, at least successfully, but she could try her hardest to distract him.

Nate sighed and said, "Come on, let's start that movie." Blair followed, thinking her plan had worked.

It hadn't worked. One Saturday morning two weeks before the start of her sophomore year, she padded down the sweeping staircase of her penthouse to find her mother, father, and Nate waiting for her in the parlor. They told her they loved her, that they were concerned for her, and that they wanted to help her.

"There's nothing wrong," she said.

"Blair," her mother snorted.

"I'm fine," she retorted.

"Blair bear," her father pleaded.

"I'm fine!" Blair began backing out of the room

"Blair," Nate called.

She stopped, looking at his caring, open expression. He rose from the couch and took both her hands in his.

"You're not fine. You're sick."

Blair closed her eyes. "I'm fine." A tear fell down her face.

"I love you," he said. _Even when you're sick_.

Nate kissed his princess, and she fell into his arms sobbing, finally awake.


End file.
